


afternoon tea

by noahlikeswaffles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Being Walked In On, Confused Sherlock Holmes, Dom Irene Adler, Dom/sub, F/F, Insecure Molly Hooper, John is a Saint, M/M, Master/Pet, Pet Molly Hooper, Pet Names, Riding Crops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahlikeswaffles/pseuds/noahlikeswaffles
Summary: Sherlock and John wind up in The Woman's path again, and when they break into her flat- well, they walk in on something unexpected.
Relationships: Irene Adler/Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	afternoon tea

"Sherlock! We can't just break in!" John hissed, looking around the slightly familiar Blegravia neighborhood. Posh pricks the lot of them. The thought of The Woman back in the same house, continuing in her- ways, was slightly unsettling. Honestly, what was wrong with that American Witness Protection scheme, really? But whatever, she wasn't a threat to his territory anymore, so to speak, live and let live. 

"Why not?" The mad man quipped, already sneaking around the back, coat swishing like a cape. John bit his lip, following with his brisk solider pace, his uneasiness like a rock in his stomach.

"Well-" He stumbled over his words, his flatmate/coparent/boyfried/life partner left staring at his slightly rosy cheeks. "You know, she might be..." Sherlock's gaze was solid and John gulped, " _working_ ,"

Sherlock furrowed his brows at this.

"What does that matter?"

"Sherlock!" John rubbed the bridge of his nose with exasperation, "I don't want to walk in on her flogging some poor bastard,"

"But, the _case_ John," The doctor sighed at this. One of The Woman's clients had been more than a bit naughty (run off with over thirty million pounds worth of embezzlement) and apparently, the thumb drive _had_ to be here.

"Sherlock, why don't you just text her and ask her if she's seen it?"

"Please, John, really, as if _she'd_ tell the truth,"

"Fair point," John acquiesced, "But seriously, Sherlock, it's not just her privacy, you know- people get, vulnerable when they're-"

Sherlock looked at him innocently, and John remembered the last time they'd dealt with Miss Adler. Sherlock, still half drugged, had admitted that he thought girls were scary and that he didn't like them at all. That, with Mycroft's little "what would you know?" and John could put the pieces together. Sherlock, while he thought himself very worldly, was the very personification of a wet dream and a fearful lost kitten in equal measure. Their own sex life was rather vanilla, but John wasn't one to push anything his partners weren't comfortable with.

"Never mind, darling, now let me have the ladder too alright, not everyone's eight feet tall," Sherlock flushed.

"six even," He mumbled.

"String bean," John teased, leaning up and planting a firm chaste kiss on his lips before giving his side a little pat, "Now let's get this over with- I have bad memories in this place,"

"Hmm," Sherlock agreed, and John noticed the subtle shiver done his spine with a smug smile as they climbed the fire escape. John realized that this was the same way the Woman had escaped their last encounter here, and then equally realized that they were going to end up right in her bedroom ensuite. 

Sherlock did not seem to have any qualms as he picked at the window lock, tongue ever so slightly peeking from his lips in concentration. He slowly pressed on the pane with a gloved hand, creaking it open and John grimaced when he heard a sharp smack from inside, followed my a tiny mewl.

"...Have you been a good girl for Mummy, dear? Keep those pretty little hands off my property?"

There was rustling, followed by an even sharper series of smacks. Sherlock didn't seem deterred, maneuvering the window even further open, and John felt disgusting. Oh God, this was- She was in there, doing- that - with some poor unfortunate. He couldn't help but wince.

"Answer me, princess, or their will be far more serious consequences," Irene growled, then there was a squeak, and John could just see the outline of a kneeling woman on the floor, her hair in a high ponytail, being pulled sharply by the dominatrix that loomed over her, the sole of her high heel pressed somewhere indiscreet. 

"I've been good, Miss Adler, _I promise_ ,"

The world stood still and Sherlock- now halfway in the window, froze solid. Molly Hooper. That was Molly Hooper. John sucked in a nervous breath, his own skin paling, and watched in horror as Sherlock's ears turned the deepest shade of crimson he had seen them. The lanky idiot turned and gave John a face partway between petrified, confused, and was that- jealousy? No, something very close to jealousy.

They needed to leave. Now. But Sherlock was partway through, and there was no pulling him out quick enough.

"Boys, do come in please, you're going to frighten my poor kitten sneaking around like that," Irene drawled and John winced. Well, there goes their escape. Sherlock was fuming red as he pushed himself all the way in, gracefully finding his feet in the bathroom. John was less graceful, flopping onto his side before standing, his Browning tucked in the back of his jeans. He stood and looked at Sherlock, who was looking at him, almost for guidance. As if this was a situation he had no idea what to do with. 

"She's all nice and covered if you're frightened," Irene teased, and John shut his eyes breifly before nodding to Sherlock and following him into the bedroom. There, sitting awkwardly on the foot of the bed, was Molly Hooper. Sweet, innocent, cat-loving, awkward Molly, wearing a dark red dressing gown that was clearly not hers, as it was far too long, the shoulders too narrow and the sleeves covering her fingers. Her face had a rosy hue, but she looked- peaceful, eyes averted, and was that- Oh God, there was a fair pink leather collar around her neck with a tag and a bell. 

Christ.

"Such naughtiness, Sherlock, breaking and entering again? Not willing to give the priest idea another go?"

Sherlock's eyes were solely on Molly, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes awash with confusion.

"Oh, get over yourself, Sherlock, it's not like you could ever give her what she wants," Irene said flippantly before ignoring them completely, turning to her sub, her eyes flickering with something akin to maternal instinct. Her red laquered fingernails pet along the top of Molly's hair, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before whispering, "Baby girl, can you be a darling and fetch us some tea?"

"Yes, Miss Adler," Molly whispered back, her eyes slightly clearer as she eyed John nervously, blinking rapidly before her gaze fell back to Irene, "Yes, I'm sorry, I'll go get some tea,"

"That's a girl, we'll be in the sitting room," Irene said with a smile, patting her silk-clad thigh and watching fondly as she quietly stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her. 

John let out the breath he was holding and looked over to Sherlock, who was staring at the door incredulously. Honestly, John was in a similar position. When had Molly ever shown attraction to anyone other than Sherlock? His stomach was suddenly a bit upset at the thought of Innocent Molly crossing paths with a dangerous criminal like Irene. 

"Now, boys, come along," She gracefully walked to the door, her riding crop tucked under arm and John paused before following, grasping Sherlock by the hand. His partner only looked at their hands before following John close, as if for protection. 

What a state he was in, she gave him a real shock this time. 

Once they were seated on the sofa, with Irene casually sprawled in her chair, her _work_ attire not what John had expected- high waisted black slacks and a black button down buttoned up to her chin, buttons snug, her dark hair in a loosely wavy updo, and her pale milky skin highlighted with a brush of sparkle across each cheekbone.

He found himself attracted to it and with a shock realized why. 

"S-so, you-" Sherlock stuttered and John swallowed, eyes darting between them.

"Yes?" She drawled, looking at him like the cat that got the cream. John realized what he'd just thought and gagged. Actually gagged. "Sorry there's no tea, subspace slows things down a bit,"

"Why?" Sherlock choked, his eyes blinking quickly as his eyes looked over her. 

"All those endorphins go straight to your head, I'm afraid, it's a bit of a high,"

"No, I meant-"

"You meant why is your dear little pathologist sporting some nasty crop marks and a cat collar?" 

"Yes," John intervened, putting a protective hand on Sherlock's knee, to which the Woman almost hissed with pleasure. 

"Glad to see you've finally taken the bait, Dr. Watson, it was so arduous to try before, I'm glad I shan't have to again- ah, Molly, come," Irene tapped her thigh as the door creaked open and Molly reappeared, suddenly Sherlock and John were vestigial to Irene's attention. Her sharp green eyes watched Molly with intricate detail, noticing every single bit about her. She set the tray on the coffee table with a shiver, her cheeks a solid crimson as she avoided John's gaze.

"Poor the tea please, Sherlock," She said without a glance his direction, and Sherlock did a jolly good job of not spilling the hot liquid as Molly gingerly knelt beside Irene, her head resting on the older woman's knee. Irene murmured praises before petting her hair softly, as if she were the only one in the room. John couldn't think straight at the sight before him. 

Not the lesbian thing- that was fine.

Just- she was a criminal! An actual criminal, and a sex worker, and the last time Sherlock got caught up her nets...

"Expanding your client base?" Sherlock clipped, his voice not as sure as he'd like it to be as he handed John his cup and saucer. 

"Dear Molly isn't a client, if that's what you're asking," Irene said with a grin, crossing an uncrossing her legs, toeing off her stilettos and resting a bare foot on Molly's knee. "No, this little thing? Priceless" Molly was glowing as her mistress praised her, her head leant sideways across Adler's knee, smiling. Irene was pleased with this and looked up at Sherlock, "brainy is, after all, the new sexy,"

"This isn't funny, Irene, what ever you've given Molly, it's not right, and we'll have you arrested" John said quickly, his fists curled. Irene looked at him with a quaint smile. 

"I haven't given her anything, Dr. Watson. Dear little Hooper wasn't feeling so good, but Mummy makes it all better," The dark haired woman leant forward and looked over her sub with such intimacy, such pure and devoted _care._

 _"_ If you're doing this to mess with me, it isn't working," Sherlock growled, and Molly seemed to shiver away from his voice, tucking herself tighter around Irene's leg. Irene only looked at him with a haughty amusement. John suddenly understood. 

"How did you find her?" He asked quietly, calmly, and Adler seemed to reward him with a response. 

"Molly came to my doorstep, like a little stray kitten, because a big bad dog had bitten her," Sherlock's cheeks were scarlet and John cleared his throat. That phone call! Damn it. Damn it all. "Wanted something quite different than I was prepared to offer,"

"What could she want from you?" Sherlock whispered.

"You know Molly's right there," John blurted in, and the other two ignored him.

"Something rather extreme, but she was clearly in no place to consent." John swallowed hard and looked darkly into his tea. He could understand wanting to hurt, wanting to punish himself.

"So you're- you actually care? This isn't a game?" John furrowed his brow and felt Sherlock twitch at his words. 

"Oh there's always a game, that's rather the point, but the goal is not your dear Sherlock, if that was your worry,"

"Miss Adler?" Came the soft, mousy whisper and Irene turned gracefully to look down at Molly, whose eyes were saucers, looking directly at Sherlock, who wouldn't meet her gaze. 

"Yes, pet?"

"May I be excused?" Irene sighed and pet her stray hairs away, looking for all the world as if she well and truly _loved_ Molly Hooper.

"In a moment darling, I know you need your after care, can you be a good girl and lie down on your tummy on the bed?"

"Yes Miss Adler," Molly nodded before quickly scurrying out the door again. 

"I must see to her, boys, if you're here for the thumb drive it's over there. Feel free to use the front door in the future. Or you really could just text,"

"I told him," John laughed, suddenly overcome with relief. Never thought he'd say it, but he was relieved that Molly had someone, even if it was a dangerous sexninja crazy woman. Who was he to judge really? He smiled at his own personal madman- who was looking at him with betrayal. 

"I thought the last scolding was enough, Sherlock," John's mouth hung open in shock as Sherlock blushed, his happy blush- the one that just barely brushed his cheek bones. He _liked_ that idea. Oh that was brilliant. "But I'm sure Dr. Watson can handle you from now on,"

"We'll have to see," John said sharply.

"Right. Well, good afternoon, boys, have a scone before you go," She strode away with poise and the door clicked shut behind her, the air tense with silence.

"i know you're scared Sherlock, but if Molly's happy-"

"I'm not _scared_ ," Sherlock bit his lip, eyes pointed to the floor.

"Right, yeah, not scared at all," John chuckled, not really wanting to be here longer than necessary. "And what is this about her handling you?"

"I've- had a few sessions,"

"A few- I'm sorry, _what_?" John growled, suddenly sharply jealous and angry and confused all at once. 

"Iusedherservicesbeforeonceortwice,"

"Why would you-" John scrubbed his face, "right, of course, you like it. When?"

"Sorry?"

"When did you come here?"

"When I was away, once, and..."

"And?"

"andthenightofthewedding," Sherlock looked humiliated, and John felt a rush of guilt. God, oh God, that sodding wedding. 

" _Sherlock_ ,"

"It's alright, John, it's really alright now," Sherlock bit his lip, "but I must say she never treated me so softly,"

"Do you believe she's telling the truth about Molly?"

"I- yes, yes I do."

"Well, it's good that she's moving on, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it's good,"

"It _is_ good you numpty, very good. But is Irene Adler worthy of the charge?"

"She's better than Tom."

John snickered, remembering Sherlock's awkward decoy.

"That she very well may be." John paused, leaning back in the sofa and looking at Sherlock seriously. "So you- like-"

"Yes,"

"Why hadn't you told me this?"

"Embarassing,"

"Sherlock, you loon, why is it embarassing?"

"But I- it _is_ embarassing,"

"Well, I like it too,"

Sherlock paled, eyes wide and shimmering with silver as he met John's. 

"You-"

"Here I thought you were a deer in the headlights, but two sessions with the woman?"

"So you'd- like to-"

"I'd like to try, 'Lock, just give it a shot,"

"But Rosie- in the flat-"

"We'll find a way to keep you quiet,"

Sherlock let out a shaky exhale before giggling, actually giggling, and John joined in.

"Let's go home, Sherlock, and try not to think about what we're going to say when we see Molly again,"

"Oh god, don't remind me,"

"I'm happy for her," John said as he guided Sherlock into the corridor and down the stairs.

"Me too," Sherlock looked behind them for a moment, "she deserves it,"

**Author's Note:**

> should I do a part two?


End file.
